


Vaccination Day

by AnimationNut



Category: Shaun the Sheep (Cartoon)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Don't copy to another site, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Needles, Platonic Relationships, Vaccinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimationNut/pseuds/AnimationNut
Summary: It's time for the sheep to receive their annual vaccinations. Timmy might have been very young when he got his first needle but he remembers two things. It hurt, and he didn't like it. What's a scared lamb to do but try to make a run for it?
Relationships: Bitzer & Timmy (Shaun the Sheep), Timmy (Shaun the Sheep) & Shaun, Timmy (Shaun the Sheep) & Timmy's Mother (Shaun the Sheep)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	Vaccination Day

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Shaun the Sheep.

The morning light filtered through the barn’s window, the rooster’s crow having long since faded from the air. Bitzer and the Farmer had yet to come collect them and Timmy was a bit confused. He sat on his mattress and watched as his flock members chatted with each other and kicked a red ball around the hay-strewn floor.

His stomach gave a soft rumble and he hopped to the floor. He went over to his mother and tapped on her leg, giving a soft whimper as he rubbed his belly. “Baaa,” she said reassuringly, giving his head a kiss.

Timmy’s lower lip wobbled and he gave a hard sniff. He was hungry and he wanted to eat now! Why wasn’t Bitzer here yet?

Shaun looked over to see his cousin on the verge of a tantrum and he went over, scooping the lamb into his hooves. He bleated for the ball and Shirley kicked it over to him. He set Timmy on the ground and gestured towards it invitingly.

Timmy stared at it for a moment before running forwards and kicking it. It rolled across the floor and Nuts sent it back. The lamb’s trembling lip turned into a smile and his hunger was forgotten as he happily booted the ball around the barn. Shaun sent his aunt a thumbs-up and she gave a grateful nod.

After five minutes of play the latch on the barn door clacked open. The sheep quickly dropped to all fours as the Farmer and Bitzer entered. Following behind them was a lady wearing blue scrubs and carrying a case. Bitzer blew on his whistle and barked at them to get into single file.

Shaun exchanged a wary glance with his aunt as they complied. Shaun positioned himself in front of Timmy and she stood behind her son. Timmy peeked around Shaun, watching curiously as the stranger reached into her case and removed a thick syringe.

“Baa!” he said, frightened, and he moved backwards in an attempt to put some distance between himself and the needle. He ran into his mother’s legs and she set a comforting hoof on his head.

“Baa,” she said encouragingly, gently nudging him back into place. “Baa baa ba baaa.”

Timmy shook his head. He was very young when he got his first vaccine, but he remembered that it hurt and he didn’t like it. He didn’t want another one.

The line crept forwards as the vet gave each sheep an injection under the Farmer’s watchful eyes. Bitzer made notes on his clipboard, his pencil scratching against the paper. Timmy tried to jump out of the queue but Shaun and Mama were quick to herd him back into place.

“Ba,” he said fearfully as Shaun was next.

His cousin gave him a warm smile. “Baa,” he said confidently.

He strode forwards and stood dutifully in front of the vet. Timmy gasped as the sharp point went into Shaun’s neck but the sheep did not make a sound. The lady retracted her hand and placed a bandage over the injection mark.

The Farmer made a noise of approval and patted Shaun’s head. He reached into the burlap sack beside him and proffered out an apple. Shaun cheerfully took it and winked at Timmy as he trotted to the back of the barn to wait for the rest of his flock to receive their vaccines.

Timmy’s legs trembled as the vet extended a hand towards him, wiggling her gloved-fingers and making cooing sounds. His mother bumped his behind but Timmy dug his hooves into the ground and refused to move a muscle.

“Oi,” the Farmer said, catching Bitzer’s attention. He jerked his thumb towards the lamb and Bitzer saluted him. He went over and gently grasped Timmy’s neck. Timmy tried to struggle but Bitzer easily dragged him forwards and set him up in front of the vet.

“Ra rawr,” he said, patting Timmy’s head and motioning towards Shaun. Timmy fearfully looked over at his cousin and, safe from sight from the Farmer and the vet, he gave Timmy an encouraging thumbs-up.

Timmy stood in place, eyes darting back and forth. He started to cry and Bitzer shushed him, his paw moving soothingly through his wool. The Farmer knelt in front of Timmy and held an apple just out of his reach. He gestured towards the needle, which the vet was preparing, and the fruit.

“Yeah, eh?”

But Timmy didn’t want an apple. He didn’t want a needle. Bitzer’s pets and the supportive sounds of his flock were not making him feel better.

The vet held out the vaccine, the silver point glinting sharply in the morning light flooding through the open doors.

Timmy ran.

He ripped free of Bitzer’s light grip and barrelled outside. His ears flattened against his head as Bitzer blew on his whistle. The swell of anxiety and terror made it easy to disregard his instincts, to ignore the shouts of the Farmer and the worried cries of his mother and Shaun.

The gate was closed and Timmy made a giant leap. His back hooves hit the top of the wood and he tumbled to the hard asphalt. He scrambled back up and sprinted down the road. As he left the farm the shrill blast of the whistle did not fade. In fact, it seemed to get stronger. Timmy peered over his shoulder and gasped upon seeing Bitzer in pursuit, his whistle clamped between his lips and his gaze sharp with admonishment.

Timmy ran as fast as he could but his little legs were not enough to carry him away from Bitzer’s long strides. Just as the tips of Bitzer’s paws grazed his backside the cry of a horn cut over the sheepdog’s persistent whistling.

A black car careened down the narrow road. Instead of coming to a halt, it swerved to the side, part of the vehicle scraping against the bushes as it roared by Bitzer. Timmy’s ears perked up as an idea struck him. As the car went by him Timmy jumped, latching onto the passenger doorknob and dangling in the air.

Bitzer yelped and waved his arms wildly. But the driver continued on unawares and in mere seconds Timmy was out of his sight.

Timmy made a triumphant noise as he successfully got away. Bitzer could not outrun a car, and he had never been fond of chasing them to begin with. There would be no needles for him today!

The car carried him all the way to town. It pulled up outside the hardware store and Timmy dropped to the ground. He wandered through the streets and as his emotions calmed down, he was very much reminded of his growling stomach.

He found the grocery store and went inside. The shoppers inside were too preoccupied with their errand to notice a lamb had entered and Timmy stayed quiet as he plucked boxes off the shelves. Biscuits, cakes and sweets were clutched in his arms as he walked up to the front counter. He dug through his wool and found some coins he had been saving. He dropped them on the countertop and the clinking sound caused the clerk to look up from his magazine. When he saw the money but no customer, he frowned in confusion.

Timmy walked out of the store and into the adjacent alley. He happily tore open the package of biscuits and devoured them. Soon his stomach was satisfied and Timmy lay against the ground in contentment, wrappings surrounding him. He gave a large yawn and closed his eyes.

But his nap was soon interrupted by a very familiar sound—the backfiring of a car. More specifically, the Farmer’s pickup truck.

Timmy hurried to the end of the alley and peered around the corner. At the end of the street the Farmer haphazardly parked his truck and jumped to the sidewalk. Bitzer was right behind him and the Farmer lifted Shaun and Mama from the truck bed. Bitzer lifted his head, gave a deep sniff, and turned in Timmy’s direction.

Timmy ran to the back of the alley and shrunk against the brick wall. He thought about running, but knew it would do no good. There were no cars to help him move faster and Bitzer’s nose was fine-tuned to the scents of his sheep.

He had been excited too soon. There _would_ be a needle for him today.

Footsteps fell towards him and his mother cried out in relief upon the sight of him. She hurried over to her child and had to resist the urge to stand and cradle Timmy in her arms. That would certainly give the Farmer quite a shock—he had never seen his flock expertly perch on two legs, thanks to their efforts to keep him oblivious. She settled for licking Timmy’s cheek and the lamb rolled over slightly to peek at her.

The Farmer, Shaun and Bitzer came up and Shaun nuzzled Timmy’s neck. The Farmer studied Timmy’s tiny, shaking body for a moment before clicking his tongue. He removed his thick green jacket and knelt down, wrapping the lamb securely in its folds. He lifted Timmy into his arms and glanced at Bitzer, jerking his chin in the direction of the car.

Bitzer nodded and ushered Shaun and his aunt out of the alley. They returned to the Farmer’s truck, where Timmy was placed in between the two sheep. Bitzer climbed into the passenger seat and soon they were on the road back for home.

Timmy quailed at the glares Shaun and Mama aimed at him. “Baa,” he said miserably.

“Baa, baa ba ba ba.” Timmy’s mother shook her hoof in reprimand. “Ba baa ba.”

Timmy lowered his head. He knew it was bad to run off on his own. But he was so scared of needles. He didn’t want one. “Ba.”

Shaun nudged Timmy’s side. “Ba baa ba baa baa?”

Timmy shook his head. No, he didn’t like getting sick.

“Baa ba,” Shaun explained. “Baa ba baa.”

Timmy frowned. He didn’t understand how a needle was supposed to help him. They hurt. “Baa baa baa ba ba baa.”

Shaun tilted his head slightly so Timmy could see his neck, which sported the small bandage. “Baa.”

It _didn’t_ hurt? Timmy stared at Shaun uncertainly. Was that true?

Shaun nodded. He stood tall and clasped a hoof to his chest. “Baa baa ba baa. Ba ba baa ba.”

Needles just seemed scary. But they weren’t bad at all. Timmy just had to be brave. Could Timmy be brave?

Timmy scrunched up his face as he thought. After a moment he nodded.

Shaun beamed and Mama kissed his cheek. “Baa ba ba ba,” she advised.

Timmy wasn’t sure how thinking of happy things would help, but he would try.

He huddled between them as they returned to Mossy Bottom Farm. The Farmer parked the truck in the middle of the road outside the barn and lowered Shaun and his aunt to the ground. He kept Timmy in his arms, still bundled in his jacket, to prevent another escape. They entered the barn, where the rest of the sheep remained, who made happy sounds at the sight of their youngest member.

“Go on,” said the Farmer to the patient vet, tucking the jacket down so the lamb’s neck was exposed.

Timmy squeezed his eyes shut and pictured everything that brought him joy. His mother. His cousin. His flock. The Farmer. Bitzer. His teddy. His favourite storybook. Mud. Lullabies.

“Baa!”

Timmy opened his eyes at Shaun’s call and looked around. Everyone was smiling at him and the vet was packing up. The Farmer smiled in satisfaction and set Timmy on the ground. He removed his jacket from the lamb and shrugged it back on. He reached into the bag and pulled out the last apple, saved just for Timmy.

It was over? He hadn’t even felt a thing!

Timmy eagerly ate the apple down to its core. He licked the Farmer’s hand and the man stroked his head. “Aw, ha ha.”

With all of his sheep safely vaccinated, it was finally time for them to go into the field. Bitzer blew his whistle and escorted them across the street and into their pasture. He paused next to Timmy, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed.

“Grrr.”

Timmy bumped his head against Bitzer’s leg. “Baa,” he said apologetically. He hadn’t meant to worry anyone.

Bright, shining eyes stared up at him and Bitzer felt his ire melt away. He picked Timmy up and proffered out a colourful lollipop. “Ta-da!”

Timmy squealed in delight and kissed Bitzer’s nose in gratitude. As he happily sucked on his treat, with Bitzer bouncing him lightly and Shaun and Mama regarding him lovingly, Timmy thought perhaps needles weren’t so bad after all.


End file.
